Monday, November 1, 2010

Like a Drawer in a Dresser

Last night I watched a 20/20 episode chronicling three teens' battles with heroin addiction. I was reminded that not all my former students have found their way. One of the benefits of having worked in the same schools for more than a decade now, though, is that I have been around to see some phoenixes rise from their ashes.

A woman I now call friend had an inauspicious start as my middle school student. I helped her out of some tough spots in high school, and wrote this poem about her several years ago. We met for dinner in September and over Indian food reflected on how our lives have changed since the day our paths crossed. My life has intersected with the lives of many incredible and resilient people, and she is one of them.

(Note: this poem is a pantoum, a form in which lines are repeated in a pattern)

For You, M.I forgot to tell you yesterday how it feltWhen you went wheeling, wailing bySlid into the ambulance like a drawer in a dresserI cried; my body felt weightless and light

When you went wheeling, wailing byI didn’t look; I didn’t think it was anyone I knew; laterI cried; my body felt weightless and lightThe first time I remember forgetting myself

I didn’t look; I didn’t think it was anyone I knew; laterI wondered how I could ignore your desperationThe first time I remember forgetting myselfConcentrating on you concentrating on pain

I wondered how I could ignore your desperationAnd how you could ignore my outstretched armsConcentrating on you concentrating on painI watch you forgetting yourself

And how you could ignore my outstretched armsIs a question not worth asking, asI watch you forgetting yourselfTrembling, shaking, cold and anxious

Is a question not worth asking, asOther things are more importantTrembling, shaking, cold, and anxiousI want to wrap my happiness and comfort around you

Other things are more importantSlid into the ambulance like a drawer in a dresserI want to wrap my happiness and comfort around youI forgot to tell you yesterday how it felt

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I am...

a forty-something wife, mother of three daughters, teacher/educator, amateur writer, artist and runner, among other temporary and permanent conditions. I dream about living and teaching in Africa (again), writing a novel (for the first time), working part-time, having another child (just did this!) and somehow, leading a less-hectic, simpler life--ha! I ask myself what part of my life can give right now so I feel I have more, and what can I add or bring back to my life to enrich it? I don't think I know anyone in my circumstance (raising young children and working or not working) who doesn't wonder what better ways there are.